


(our lips can touch) here

by city135



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Domestic, Drabble, Drabble Collection, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-08-14 00:19:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16482494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/city135/pseuds/city135
Summary: "I love this. Us."( series of domestic dotae drabbles; ratings vary )1. moving in (T)2. morning alarm (G)3. haircut (T)4. city lights (E)





	1. moving in

**Author's Note:**

> im absolutely LOSING it at taeyong brushing doyoung's lips gently (Very Fine Touching TM) and doyoung's beautiful smile in return SO i thought i'd try writing some cute dotae drabbles?
> 
> ratings and length of each drabble may vary. not sure how often i'll update.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rated: T

“I love this,” Doyoung sighs softly. They’re on the floor in the middle of their new living room, bare walls and boxes surrounding them.

Taeyong hums in agreement. “This is, perhaps, the softest carpet I’ve ever laid on.”

Doyoung huffs and lazily slaps his hand against Taeyong’s stomach, then finds his hand and tangles their fingers together. “I mean _this_.” He squeezes for emphasis. “ _Us_.”

Taeyong shifts a little to look at Doyoung, the corners of his lips twitching up. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Doyoung turns on his side, as much as he can while still comfortably holding Taeyong’s hand. “I love that we’re finally moving in together.”

Taeyong’s eyes glint -- like he’s torn between agreeing or preening for praise. Instead, he ends up leaning in to brush his lips against Doyoung’s. “I love _you_ ,” he whispers.

He always whispers it, writes it into little poems and letters, because Lee Taeyong -- who can murmur absolute filth into Doyoung’s ear in public, without even batting an eye -- always turns red and gets endearingly shy every times he confesses his love like this. Doyoung doesn’t mind it though -- he likes being the only one in the world who can hear it.

Doyoung grins, a little mischievous, and quickly rolls onto his boyfriend, straddling his waist. “I love you, too --” he pecks Taeyong’s lips again “-- so much.”

Taeyong slips his hand out of Doyoung’s and loops his arms around Doyoung’s neck, holding him in place. He kisses so tenderly, smiling against Doyoung’s mouth so gently, that Doyoung feels like he could fall in love all over again.

The front door opens.

“Where should I put this box, the label just says…” Sicheng trails off when he sees the two of them, sprawled out on the floor. “Um…”

From the doorway, Yuta cackles. “I told you they’d be...” He gestures with his hands, vaguely.

Doyoung sits up and bites his lip, trying not to laugh at the way Taeyong has gone pink. “Thanks for helping us. I think we got the rest.”

Sicheng nods, schooling his expression into something more amused. “There’s just a few boxes for the kitchen left, I think? In your car.”

“Thank you, both of you.” Taeyong smiles. “You’re coming to our housewarming party next week, right? I’ll make your favorites.”

Yuta nods solemnly. "You're the best, Taeyong." He raises his eyebrows at Sicheng, then nods in the direction of the hall -- away from the apartment.

“See you soon.” Sicheng sets the box in his arms down by the door.

As soon as they leave, Taeyong tugs Doyoung on top of him again. He kisses his cheek, then whispers against his ear: “I heard Yuta’s trying to get people to bet on who is more disgustingly domestic -- us or Johnny and Ten.”

Doyoung laughs softly. “We’ll win.” He shifts to rest his forehead against Taeyong’s.

“Why’s everything a competition with the lot of you.” Doyoung, Yuta, and Jaehyun he means. Doyoung just flashes a cheeky smile in return.

Taeyong rubs his palms over Doyoung’s sides, letting them settle on his hips. He sighs. As much as he'd love to lay here with his boyfriend, they have work to do. “We should go finish bringing in the rest of the boxes.”

“I’m comfortable here,” Doyoung says. He relaxes over Taeyong more, nearly laying on top of him completely. 

Taeyong rolls his eyes and slowly pushes Doyoung up. “If we get all the boxes in,” he says slowly. “We can…”

He gestures with his hand, less vaguely than Yuta.

This time, Doyoung blushes.


	2. morning alarm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Doyoung isn't a morning person, but at least he isn’t as bad as his boyfriend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rated: G

Doyoung wouldn’t call himself a morning person, not really. He loves sleeping in when he can, or just lazing around in bed until it’s time for him to actually do something. He doesn’t have that internal body alarm clock some people seem to have, he doesn’t automatically wake up at the same time every day.

But at least he isn’t as bad as his boyfriend.

“ _Taeyong_ ,” Doyoung groans, turning to bury his face into his pillow as Taeyong’s alarm goes off for the _third_ time in twenty minutes.

Taeyong has to wake up earlier for his commute to work and sets multiple alarms on his phone to make sure he gets up and follows his morning routine on time. And usually, it works. He’s usually up and bustling around before Doyoung pulls himself out of bed.

But today…

Taeyong lets out a soft noise, still mostly asleep, and makes no move to shut his blaring phone or even acknowledge it.

Doyoung huffs softly and leans over Taeyong to shut the alarm off, then flops back down onto the mattress. He shakes Taeyong’s shoulder gently. “Taeyong, come on. That was your _You Absolutely Need To Get Out Of Bed Right Now_ alarm, you’re gonna be late.”

Taeyong’s face scrunches up (cutely, Doyoung thinks) and he shifts closer, sleepily pressing his forehead to Doyoung’s shoulder. “Five more minutes,” he grumbles, words slurred.

“I _told_ you to sleep earlier, but you _insisted_ on staying up to play -- whatever you were playing,” Doyoung scolds softly, even as he reaches up to stroke Taeyong’s hair.

“Couldn’t save yet,” Taeyong huffs. He nuzzles closer and slides his hand under Doyoung’s shirt, palm resting on his stomach. “Mm...Warm.”

Doyoung sighs and sits up slowly, easing himself out of Taeyong’s insistent hold. He doesn’t even have to be up for another fifteen minutes. Fifteen precious minutes he’ll be sure to have Taeyong make up to him later.

He stands up and yanks the blanket away, shaking his head when Taeyong curls into himself, whining softly at the cold air.

“You know you’ll just be stressed out the entire commute over.” Doyoung holds Taeyong by the wrists and pulls until his boyfriend is sitting up, one leg hanging off the bed. It’s times like these he wishes he was the stronger of the two. “Come on.”

Taeyong rubs his eyes, then sighs and squints (with dark circles under his eyes and hair that resembles a bird’s nest, Doyoung still thinks he’s the most beautiful person in the world). Taeyong slowly stands up and takes a few steps towards Doyoung. He puckers his lips and taps on them once.

And Doyoung chuckles. Even if Taeyong is difficult in the mornings, he’s still ridiculously endearing. He cups Taeyong’s face between his hands and kisses him gently.

“Thank you,” Taeyong mumbles against his lips.

“Go get ready, baby.” Doyoung rubs his thumb over Taeyong’s cheek before pulling away. “I’ll get breakfast started.”

Taeyong nods and leans forward to peck Doyoung’s cheek. “Love you.”

Doyoung smiles. “I love you, too.”

  



	3. haircut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Trust me?" Doyoung smiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rated: T
> 
> to the person who sent a CC suggesting a body worship drabble! i see you! and i will do it soon i promise!

“Hold _still_.”

“Are you _sure_ you know what you’re doing?” Taeyong pouts at Doyoung through their bathroom mirror.

“You aren’t near the first person I’ve given a haircut to. You know that.” Doyoung places his hands on Taeyong’s shoulders and tries to ease him into the chair he’s set up in the bathroom. “And not a single person has complained.”

“But it’s been _ages_ since you’ve actually done it!” Taeyong huffs, squirming out of Doyoung’s grasp.

“Baby, I’m sure I could do a much better job than that…” Doyoung wrinkles his nose. “ _Disaster_ you got at the salon.”

Taeyong furrows his eyebrows. He has to admit that the choppy, uneven bangs he had ended up with are not exactly ideal. He had been too shy to complain about it, and now he’s suffering the consequences. “But…”

“If it turns out badly -- which it won’t -- I’ll never cut your hair again, we can go to a better hair stylist, I’ll do whatever you want for a week, et cetera.” Doyoung reaches out for Taeyong’s hand and squeezes his fingers. He smiles softly. “Trust me?”

“Two weeks,” Taeyong insists and sits down gingerly.

“Good boy.” Doyoung says with practiced nonchalance. And Taeyong blushes all the way to the tips of his ears, a gut reaction. He wishes he could be surprised at his Pavlovian response.

“You’re the worst,” Taeyong mumbles with no heat in his voice, crossing his arms.

“Love you, too,” Doyoung smirks and gets to work.

Doyoung’s hands are soft and gentle, but Taeyong already knows this. The way he combs through Taeyong’s hair is soothing, and Taeyong loves how Doyoung’s eyebrows knit together in concentration, loves the intensity in his eyes.

“I haven’t even started and you look so tense,” Doyoung says softly. “Relax. Just close your eyes and pretend you’re in a real salon.”

Taeyong chews on his lower lip and lets his eyes flutter shut, because he _does_ trust Doyoung, more than anyone or anything. They’ve known each other for almost half their lives, after all. And he has _seen_ Doyoung give other people haircuts. He may not be a professional, but he does a good job.

The sound of scissors cutting hair is almost hypnotizing, and Taeyong doesn’t know how long he’s seated there with his eyes closed, allowing Doyoung’s careful hands to work over him.

“Alright…” There’s a hint of uncertainty in Doyoung’s voice. Taeyong feels a towel brush away stray hairs on his neck. “It’s a little different from what you’re used to, but I didn’t exactly have the best base to work off of.”

Taeyong opens his eyes.

His hair is _short_. Much shorter than he’s had in years. It’s not exactly something he’d go out of his way to get, but it’s neat and even, and the longer he looks at his reflection, the better it seems.

Doyoung licks his lips, watching Taeyong’s face for a reaction. “What do you think?”

“I think I like it?” Taeyong reaches up and runs his finger through the short strands, then turns to face Doyoung properly. “What do _you_ think?” Taeyong slides his arms around Doyoung’s waist and bats his eyes playfully. “Do I look cute?”

“You look beautiful,” Doyoung says sincerely and leans in to kiss Taeyong’s forehead. He brings his hand up to brush away hair on Taeyong’s cheek, then lets it settle on his neck, fingers playing with the hair at the back of his head. “Very handsome. Super cute.”

Taeyong beams and goes up on his toes to kiss Doyoung on the lips sweetly. “Thank you. My favorite hairstylist. The _best_ hair stylist.”

“I wouldn’t go that far.” Doyoung laughs softly against Taeyong’s lips. “We should clean up.”

“Shower with me?” Taeyong says, grinning at the way Doyoung’s hand is already slipping under his shirt.

“Of course.”

 


	4. city lights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Doyoung traces his fingers over Taeyong's skin, mapping him out centimeter by centimeter, millimeter by millimeter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for anons on CC who requested "doyoung worshipping taeyong's body" and "doyoung rimming taeyong"!! 
> 
>  
> 
> i've had a block on writing smut for the past few months so i hope this is alright???
> 
>  **rated E** , obviously

“Doyoung?” Taeyong calls out from the bathroom, muffled a litte by the closed door. “Can you bring me a towel?”

Doyoung sets his phone down, presses pause on his laptop, and slowly gets up from bed. It’s Friday evening and as soon as they came home from work, they had settled into their own means of relaxation. For Doyoung, that means catching up on the drama he meant to start watching two months ago. For Taeyong, that means taking a nice long shower or bath, washing away the stress from the week and easing his tired muscles.

“Just a second!” Doyoung replies, and goes to their closet to find one of the neatly folded towels Taeyong keeps next to his (honestly, ridiculously large) supply of different scented soaps and lotions. Sometimes he wonders if it’s weird -- how independent they are of each other sometimes, even going as far as not even talking too much aside from _good mornings_ and _good nights_ on busy days. But Doyoung’s come to find it’s needed -- Taeyong needs his own space sometimes, and so does Doyoung. And they’re both comfortable enough with each other to understand that.

Doyoung opens the bathroom door, towel in hand. The mirrors are fogged up and Taeyong is still standing under the shower, though the water has been turned off.

“Thank you.” Taeyong beams at him and reaches out, gesturing for Doyoung to come closer. He looks brighter, far more awake than he did when he had first come home.

“It looks like you’re turning our apartment into a bath house with all this steam.” Doyoung brings the towel up and ruffles Taeyong’s hair, drying it off, chuckling at Taeyong’s surprised yelp.

His hair sticks up in a bunch of different direction when Doyoung pulls the towel away, and this time Doyoung doesn’t have the chance to laugh because Taeyong is wrapping his arms around Doyoung’s neck and kissing him on the mouth.

“You’re getting my shirt wet,” Doyoung complains half-heartedly, leaning in for another kiss, catching Taeyong’s lower lip between his teeth, tugging lightly.

“Too bad,” Taeyong hums. He presses the length of his body against Doyoung’s and teasingly rolls his hips, bare skin against Doyoung’s boxer clad thigh, and Doyoung hadn’t realized when he entered the bathroom that Taeyong had been a bit -- excited. “I was thinking about asking you to join me, but you seemed a little -- preoccupied.”

Doyoung scoffs softly, “I would’ve dropped my drama for this.” He steps back and guides Taeyong out of the shower, then drags the towel over Taeyong’s back, kissing him harder and swallowing Taeyong’s soft moan.

It’s a rush, a mess of them bumping into doorways and walls, as they make their way to their bed. Taeyong drops down onto the mattress, skin damp against the sheets, and Doyoung kneels at the end of the bed, between Taeyong’s spread legs. He licks his lips.

“Fuck me?” Taeyong breathes, looking up at Doyoung with lidded eyes. If he was half-hard before, he’s all the way there now, cock flushed and hard against his belly.

They haven’t had the chance to do this in a while, haven’t had the chance to do more than use their hands and lips and tongues. But now -- they have nothing to do tonight, nothing to do tomorrow, and Doyoung’s going to use that to their full advantage. He grins. “I’m gonna do more than that.”

Doyoung gently takes Taeyong’s right foot in his hand and lifts his leg until it rests on his shoulder, reveling in the way Taeyong’s eyes widen, the way he licks his lips in anticipation. Doyoung traces a line from Taeyong’s toes to his knee, then back down. He must have shaved just moments ago, because his skin is soft and silky smooth, and when Doyoung turns to kiss Taeyong’s ankle, he smells like oranges and vanilla.

“Doyoung,” Taeyong sighs softly, and Doyoung hums in reply. He trails slow kisses up the inside of Taeyong’s leg, tongue flicking out to catch the droplets of water still clinging to Taeyong’s skin.

Taeyong is beautiful, and Doyoung will never get tired of looking at him, of touching him, of hearing him. He loves every single detail of Taeyong, from the lines of muscle in his legs to the gasp he lets out when Doyoung bites down on the softer skin of Taeyong’s inner thigh, just above the knee.

He traces out lines, then follows them with his mouth, going higher and higher, until he reaches the one places he knows Taeyong wants him to be. Doyoung looks up, smiling at Taeyong’s flushed face.

“Please?” Taeyong asks, barely above a whisper. And Doyoung is tempted to give him what he wants, but fun would that be?

He nuzzles Taeyong’s balls, then sits back up, smiling at Taeyong’s frustrated whine. “Don’t touch yourself, baby.” He brings Taeyong’s left leg up to rest on his shoulder, then raises an eyebrow and taps the back of Taeyong’s thigh with an open palm. “Okay?”

“Yes, okay,” Taeyong says quickly. He brings his hands above his head and holds his elbows, locking himself in place.

Doyoung hums, pleased, then turns to give Taeyong’s other leg the same treatment, this time sucking at the soft skin behind Taeyong’s knee, biting down harder on his thighs, nibbling at the sensitive spots he’s discovered over the years, until Taeyong whimpers and his skin is red when Doyoung sits up.

Taeyong spreads his legs wider, arching his chest up a little, a silent plea, because he knows better than opening his mouth to ask again. It’s a plea that’s ignored again.

“You’re so pretty, Taeyongie,” Doyoung says instead. He places his palm on Taeyong’s belly and slides it up, over his chest, his neck, and cups his cheek, then follows, leaning over Taeyong, making sure hips hips don’t touch Taeyong’s and give him the friction he craves.

He rests his forehead against Taeyong’s, then places his thumb on Taeyong’s chin and presses down, and Taeyong’s mouth falls open, pliant and perfect. Doyoung lets spit gather in his mouth, then parts his lips and lets it drip down into Taeyong’s mouth, drawing out a throaty moan. “So pretty.”

He kisses the corner of Taeyong’s mouth then kisses Taeyong’s jaw, fingers sliding up to trace the delicate shape of his lips and slip into Taeyong’s mouth, groaning when Taeyong flicks his tongue between his fingers and sucks on three of them, greedily.

This time, when he kisses down the column of Taeyong’s throat, when he traces his fingers over Taeyong's skin, mapping him out centimeter by centimeter, millimeter by millimeter -- it’s more rushed, more hungry, less methodical. He laps at his collarbones, noses along his armpit and down his ribs, surging back up to circle his tongue over rosy nipples, sucking until Taeyong moans, loud and unrestrained. He nips at the muscles in Taeyong’s arms, kisses the inside of his elbows. He sucks and bites at Taeyong’s skin, littering his chest and stomach with pink and red marks, bound to turn darker by the morning.

There’s precum staining Taeyong’s belly already, and Doyoung laps at it eagerly. “I haven’t even really touched you yet,” he laughs softly, loving the way Taeyong’s cheeks flush red.

“More,” Taeyong whimpers, voice muffled by the fingers in his mouth. He twitches under Doyoung, gasping when Doyoung dips his tongue into Taeyong’s bellybutton.

“Can you come untouched, baby?” Doyoung flicks his tongue once, giving Taeyong an idea of what’s to come, then again, just to feel Taeyong’s stomach tighten under him. “Get on your knees for me.”

Doyoung sits back, fingers slipping out of Taeyong’s mouth, and Taeyong moves quickly, feverishly, head on the pillows and ass in the air, back arched he presents himself to his boyfriend, and _fuck_ \-- Taeyong really is perfect for him in every way.

Doyoung molds himself over Taeyong’s back, pressing his clothed cock against Taeyong’s bare skin, rolling his hips to give himself some relief. But this isn’t about him, not right now -- this is about Taeyong and exploring every part of him and giving it love.  

Doyoung kisses the nape of Taeyong’s neck, then his shoulder, hands coming up to tease Taeyong’s nipples and rub over his sides. He maps out Taeyong’s back by connecting tiny birthmarks and moles, licking lines between them, trailing gentle kisses down his spine, smiling when Taeyong and arches more, the lower Doyoung goes.

Taeyong’s ass is small, kind of perky, definitely cute, and it fits under Doyoung’s palms just right. He massages his cheeks, Taeyong’s upper thighs and his calves, keeping his mouth teasingly close, even kissing his cheeks, until Taeyong whines again, desperate.

And when Doyoung finally -- _finally_ \-- spreads Taeyong open and licks a broad stripe over his rim, Taeyong lets out a strangled sound, legs tensing up, toes curling.

Doyoung does it again, and again, kisses him and sucks at the skin lightly, and just before he knows Taeyong will open his mouth to beg, Doyoung pushes his tongue past the ring of muscle, hands on Taeyong’s hips, holding him in place. 

“ _Doyoung_ ,” Taeyong whimpers, high and needy, panting softly as Doyoung continues. It’s wet, a little sloppy, just the way Doyoung knows Taeyong likes it, and when Doyoung brings his palm down on Taeyong’s ass, slap echoing in their room, Taeyong shudders, crying out.

Doyoung pulls back enough to spit on Taeyong’s hole, then licks into him again, pressing one finger into him too this time, slow and careful.

“ _Oh_ , Doyoung.” The sounds leaving Taeyong’s mouth are divine, and Doyoung would do anything to hear more of it. “Doyoung, _please_ , I need--”

“Patience, baby.” Doyoung’s voice is low, raspy with arousal. He swallows. “I’ll give you what you need.”

He works his finger, slick with spit, into Taeyong, then adds another, shallowly fucking him with them before spreading him gently and flicking his tongue into him again and tracing his rim.

Doyoung sits back a little and slides his fingers in to the last knuckle, searching, thumb rubbing over Taeyong’s taint until he lets out a long, low moan.

He angles his hand and fucks Taeyong with his fingers slowly, at first, rubbing over his prostate each time, holding Taeyong up with the other hand, squeezing his hip. “I love you,” he mumbles, just loud enough for Taeyong to hear, and picks up the pace, gathering spit in his mouth again and letting it dribble down to Taeyong’s rim to make the slide smoother.

“I -- _fuck_ ,” Taeyong gasps, fingers curling into the sheets. “I love you, too!”

Doyoung leans down and kisses the center of Taeyong’s back again as he eases another finger in. He fucks him harder and faster, until Taeyong tenses up around him and lets out a shaky moan, gasping as he releases onto the sheets underneath him. And it’s amazing, Doyoung thinks, how he knows Taeyong well enough to be able to make him fall apart with just three fingers.

Doyoung waits for a moment, kissing Taeyong’s back again, then slowly pulls his fingers out and helps Taeyong lay on his back, on the cleaner side of the bed.

Taeyong looks up with him with a dazed smile and Doyoung laughs softly, adoration bubbling in his chest. He finds Taeyong’s hand and brings it up to his mouth, then kisses his knuckles gently. “You’re amazing,” he whispers, and Taeyong blushes.

“I love you,” Taeyong says again. He licks his lips and looks down at Doyoung’s cock straining against his boxers. “You’re still…”

Doyoung grins, sharp and wide, and reaches down with his free hand to palm himself.  “I never said we were done.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you haven't already, listen to city lights by u-know feat. taeyong !

**Author's Note:**

> if anyone is interested....please feel free leave suggestions/ideas for drabbles and i will try my best to do them! ^^  
> [twitter](http://twitter.com/spideycity127/) | [cc](https://curiouscat.me/spideycity)


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